What do birds see?
perhaps more than we can know
and what of their dreams?
are they full of worms
and juicy slugs?
are there also nightmares
of predators and windstorms
destroying all they've built?
given a choice
I'd probably be a robin
waking in that well built nest
shared with eggshell blue
waiting for the warmth
the return
of the reddish feathered breast
or perhaps a catbird
is closer to my truth
a wordy bird
behind the black bead of an eye
taking it all in
confident
Arizona will be there